


As All Things Should Be

by strandedonthemoon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Parent Tony Stark, Pepper Potts is Peter Parker's Adoptive Mother (ish), Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Pepper Potts, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Peter Parker's Adoptive Father, i killed aunt may i'm sorry, idk how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17103707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strandedonthemoon/pseuds/strandedonthemoon
Summary: Peter realized, with a pang of worry and fear, that he never really stopped holding his breath.---Grief was a shadow Peter was familiar with. He'd been acquainted to it since he was six years old. But that didn't make the darkness any easier to bear.He lost May, but he had Tony.And Tony would never let him slip away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! this is going to be a long one, so buckle up, kids :)  
> i'm probably going add more tags as this fic progresses.  
> this chapter is so bad, but it's just to kick off the fic so *shrug*. i hope it reads better than it wrote.  
> enjoy!

When Peter swung into his home through his bedroom window at eight PM on the Thursday before summer vacation, he expected his aunt to be home, too.

Instead, he was greeted with a n ominous quiet.

"May?" he called out, ripping his mask off. "I'm home."

Silence.

Peter cautiously walked into the living room. He expected the absolute worse.

What met him was... nothing.

He then walked into the kitchen and laughed halfheartedly at the sight.

It was a complete mess. There were different types of pasta and marinara sauces in various corners of the kitchen, and where there wasn't either of those, there was a pile of flour (why May would need flour for pasta, Peter didn't know). In the center of the kitchen floor was a cookbook May was obviously working from. His aunt was nowhere to be seen, but a note was on the fridge. _Ran out of milk and tomatoes,_ it said. _Be back in ten, okay? May <3_

The young boy let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Ever since Toomes figured out his identity, and then May found out about Spider-Man, Peter became overly cautious about someone finding out his identity and using it against him. He liked to chalk it up as pure paranoia, but a small part of him knew what his line of work can bring.

He shook his head. The kitchen needed cleaning, and he needed a shower.

And so that is what he sought to do. He began with the kitchen, wiping the counters and setting out all the ingredients his aunt needed (minus the milk and the tomatoes but including the flour. Turns out she does need it) in a nice pile near the cabinets. He placed her cookbook beside the pile before going to take a shower.

Aunt May still wasn't home when Peter got out, and he realized, with a pang of worry and fear, that he never really stopped holding his breath.

Peter was just about to call her when the doorbell rang.

_Finally._

And then the hairs on his neck shot up.

_Why would Aunt May ring the doorbell?_

Peter swung the door open to reveal two cops, and an unwanted wave of déjà vu rolled over him.

"Peter Parker?" one of the officers asked.

He swallowed. "That's me."

The cops shared a look of promised regret. "Kid, there's no easy way to go about this," the second cop said, glancing back at Peter. He would've laughed at the informality if he wasn't scared out of his mind. "Why don't we come in and sit down, hmm?"

"No. Just tell me what you want."

Another shared glance between the cops. When they looked back at him, their eyes filled with sympathy. "May Parker, who, from what we've gathered, was your last living relative, was present at the scene when a robbery occurred in a grocery store a block away."

Peter didn't comprehend it right away, but when he did, he spluttered, "W-Was?"

The second cop nodded. "We're so sorry for your loss."

They kept talking, and a part of Peter was listening. But that didn't stop the brutal wail that tore through his lips.

"We understand that this may be hard to process..."

Peter screamed.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony didn't know what to expect when he picked up the phone, but he didn't expect anything bad.

He should've known not to assume.

"Hey, kid. What's up?"

"Is this Tony?" a voice he didn't recognize replied. His body went stiff.

"Who is this?"

"NYPD."

He could feel his heart as it hammered in his chest. "Where's Peter? Is he okay?"

"Mr. Parker is here, in his apartment. I trust you are a close family friend?"

"Yes. Is Peter okay?"

"He is in perfect health, rest assured. However, his aunt just passed away due to a robbery involving a gun."

 _Fuck. Shit._ Tony silently called for a suit and sent it Peter's location.

"And as you may know," the officer continued, "she was Mr. Parker's last living relative."

Mr. Parker. As if he wasn't only a fifteen-year-old kid.

"And until we retrieve her will and see who she appointed to be his guardian, we will need someone to take temporary guardianship of Peter. If you are unwilling to do so, we can put him in foster ca-"

Tony switched the phone to his suit's comm's as he stepped in, effectively cutting the man off. "Can I talk to Peter?"

"I highly recommend we go over the legalities first, Sir-"

"We can go over them in when I get there. Now can I talk to the kid?"

There was a stunned silence on the other side of the line. All Tony could hear was the whirl of the suit as he took off.

"Uh, sure."

There were a few muffles, and then a soft, "Tony?"

"Hey, kid." His voice was gentle as he spoke. "Look, I'll be right there, okay? I'm only ten minutes out."

There was a bit of sniffling, and then a broken sob. It made the older man's heart squeeze. " _Tony_."

"I'm on my way, buddy. It's going to be okay."

Another sob sounded through the phone. "T-T-Tony." A hiccup. "I-I c-ca-can't."

"Yes, you can. You're going to be okay."

"B-But _M-M-May._ " A brutal sob tore through the kid, and Tony's heart hurt for the boy.

"Pete, you gotta breathe, okay? Breathe."

"I-I ca-can-can't!"

He had an idea. "FRIDAY, sound my heartbeat."

"Yes, Boss."

His attention went back to the kid. "Do you hear that, buddy?" he asked.

"Ye-Yeah."

"Good. Now breathe in for three heartbeats."

Peter didn't reply, but he could hear him trying to take in a breath. "I-I-I ca-can't," he said after a few struggling attempts.

"You can. Just listen to my heartbeat."

He could hear the kid struggle, but eventually, he drew in a long breath.

"That's good. Now breathe out for four."

That came easier, and eventually, Peter succeeded in letting out a drawn-out breath.

"Now do it again."

Tony remained on the phone with Peter for the duration of the trip, but five minutes in, he received a call. Pepper Potts.

"Peter, I have to go, okay? I'll be there in five minutes, tops."

"Okay."

"Bye, kiddo."

Tony switched the call to Pepper. He began to speak before the call connected properly.

"Before you say anything, I know I'm not home, and I'm sorry. I'll be there in an hour, two at the most. But while I'm not there, I need you to call my lawyers."

A static silence met him, and then a sigh. "You're lawyers? Seriously, Tony? Can't I go one day without having to clear up some-"

"It's for the kid, Pep. Not me."

"Peter?"

Pepper and Peter had gotten pretty acquainted since the Vulture. He'd eat dinner with them every two weeks or so, and their favorite pastime was to make fun of Tony together. She's even met May a few times, with her knowing about Spider-Man and all. Tony could tell May liked Pepper more than she ever would him.

"May passed away."

His fiancee took a sharp intake of breath.

"And I'm taking temporary guardianship of him until they figure out who May wants him to stay with."

Silence. And then...

"Wanted."

"What?"

"Who May _wanted_ him to stay with, honey."

It was Tony's turn to take in a sharp breath. "Oh."

A silence stretched as the gravity of the situation weighed on the two adults.

"I-I don't think she put anyone," Tony said softly.

"What?"

"On her will. I don't think she decided who Peter would go to if she died."

"Where would Peter go, then?"

"To me."

Tony could see Peter's apartment block. A cop car was parked in front of it.

"Pep, call my lawyers," he said, his voice so soft it was practically a whisper.

"Okay." Pepper's voice was soft, too.

"And Happy. Send him Peter's address."

"Alright."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He hung up before stepping out of his suit and running to Peter's apartment.

There are times when Tony wished he prepared himself more for what was to come.

The apartment door was open and two officers were standing to the side, talking to each other in hushed tones and glancing at Peter every once in a while. Peter, who looked too young for a boy who's gone through as much as he has. He was sitting numbly on a chair from the dining table, his bloodshot eyes staring at the wall opposite him. His right hand appeared to be gripping his left forearm, but as Tony got closer, he saw the young boy was actually scratching his arm with so much force that Tony was surprised he didn't draw blood yet. It didn't even look like Peter knew what he was doing.

 _A coping habit,_ Tony thought worriedly.

The older man realized that this was far out of his element. He didn't know how to take care of a grieving boy.

But looking at the kid... He couldn't let him down. And if that meant taking care of him and taking him in, then so be it.

He walked towards the boy and put a gentle hand over the one that was scratching. Peter's hand stopped moving, but his eyes stayed glued to the wall.

"Pete..."

A few tears leaked out of Peter's eyes but he didn't move to wipe them away. Tony took Peter's hand in his own before turning to the cops.

Who were staring at him, shell-shocked.

Oh. Right. He's Tony Stark. And he's requesting temporary, maybe even permanent, guardianship of a random kid from Queens in his sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Tony stood up a little straighter. "Is there anything I need to sign?"

The shorter cop recovered quickly. He passed him a clipboard with a few papers attached. "Yes. Just to confirm you are willing to take temporary and possibly permanent guardianship of Peter Parker."

Peter squeezed his hand as he signed, the only sign that the boy was listening.

"Is that all?"

The second cop recovered. "Y-Yes, but we would like to discuss-"

"Is it necessary?" Tony interrupted.

"No, but-"

"Then drop an email to my secretary. I would much rather finish up quickly so I can get the boy home."

He faltered. "O-Okay."

Tony turned his attention back to Peter and knelt in front of him.

Peter, who lost more than he could imagine.

The man let his voice soften. "Happy's gonna be here soon, kid. Wanna go get a few things from your room?"

Peter tore his eyes away from the wall to look at Tony for the first time that night. His eyes were worse up close, glassy and red with grief. He squeezed his hand urgently.

"I won't let go, okay?"

Something in the boy eased, and he nodded slowly.

Peter backed his bag one-handed and hazardously, throwing in random things items of clothing into his backpack. He kept squeezing Tony's hand randomly. Every time he did, something in the older man's heart tugged.

As Peter and Tony walked out the door, the younger boy stopped.

"Pete?"

The boy was staring at the kitchen, tears rebuilding in his eyes. He squeezed Tony's hand, an indication to come closer. So Tony did.

The kitchen looked as if it was just wiped clean. An array of ingredients were set up neatly on top of one of the counters, and beside them was an open cookbook. The sight was so domestic that it broke a bit of Tony's heart.

There was a note on the fridge. _Ran out of milk and tomatoes,_ it said. _Be back in ten, okay? May <3_

"She's-she's supposed to c-come home," Peter said, his voice hoarse. He let go of Tony's hand to scratch his forearm. "T-The ingredients were out-out to make pa-pasta. Look."

"Kid, don't do that." He took Peter's shaking hand in his own again. Angry red lines marked his arm, and a bit of the skin was peeling off.

"S-She was-was supposed t-to come _home_."

Tony tugged Peter's arm and threw his arms around him, hugging him tight. He combed through Peter's wet curls as the boy sobbed into his shoulder.

"Shh," the older man whispered, trying to sooth the kid. "It's going to be alright."

But Peter just sobbed harder.

Tony didn't want to do this, but Happy was waiting downstairs and the cops were standing there, awkward and agitated, so he pulled away from the kid slightly. "We have to go, Peter," he said softly.

The boy fell sniffled and nodded before pulling away. He made to grab his forearm, but Tony saw the movement and didn't hesitate to take the kid's hand into his own.

They slowly made their way downstairs. Happy was parked up front, and the suit Tony came with was packing itself away and into the trunk.

"Hey, Peter," Happy said softly. He obviously knew what happened.

Peter looked down. "Hey."

They got into the car, and Peter's hand never left Tony's, even as he drifted off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry?
> 
> okay, i've got a few things i need to get through. 
> 
> first, I've got a basic outline of where this story is going to go, so the chapters should flow pretty easily. HOWEVER, the next chapter may not to come until mid/late January since i have my GCSE mocks right now. MAYBE. who knows with me, honestly.
> 
> second, the next few chapters are just going to be sad!Peter. literally. the plot doesn't get going until chapter 5. its just sad fluff and varying degrees of hurt/comfort up until then. but don't worry, the angst is coming. especially towards the end of the fic. a lot's going to happen to Peter, so here's a warning :)
> 
> third, this story takes place during the summer after the events of homecoming, so infinity war didn't happen (can you tell i'm blatantly denying the events of infinity war?). Peter is about to turn sixteen. Pepper and Tony are engaged. you get the gist of it. 
> 
> and finally, the title, 'As All Things Should Be' is not a definite. I might change it as the story progresses. 
> 
> yup, that's it.
> 
> kudos and comment?
> 
> thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're doing great, buddy."
> 
> He didn't feel like he was doing great. He felt like he was dying. Like a bullet was piercing through his chest.
> 
> _Wouldn't be the first Parker dying at the hands of a gun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all, this story's going to be a fun ride. and by fun i mean completely heart-wrenching. get ready for the world of pain i'm going to put you through :)
> 
> here's some more hurt/comfort from our faves.

Peter always remembered falling asleep.

Which is why it was so disorienting when he opened his eyes to find that he was no longer in Happy's car, but in his personal room at the compound. It was dark outside. 

_Happy's car?_

A wave of nausea rolled over him as his memories of the night came flooding back. He barely made it to the toilet before vomit came out of his mouth, but he didn't concentrate on his stinging throat, instead turning his attention to his racing heart and the monotonous though of  _May May May May May no no no please not May._

Peter didn't immediately notice that he wasn't alone in the bathroom anymore, or the hand rubbing small circles on his back and the hushed repeat of  _it's okay, Pete. I got you,_ and when he did, he couldn't seem to care. 

_Not the right person not the right person where's May May May May May no not May please._

Peterbowed his head when another bout of vomit threatened to escape, but all that came out was bile and water. 

"Kid, you gotta breathe or you're going to pass out."

He didn't realize he was holding his breathe, but when he came to take in a gulp of air, his airway clogged up and he ended up coughing and gagging. A wave of panic hit him, and he began to claw at his throat, his chest, his arms, anything, to try and ground himself, but before he could cause too much damage, a hand stopped him. 

"Please don't, Peter," Tony whispered softly. The older man took one of Peter's hands in his own and pressed the second one onto his pulse point. A steady drum of heartbeats thrummed onto the tips of Peter's fingers. 

"Remember what we did yesterday? Three beats in, four out." A calloused hand brushed Peter's cheek, nudging him to look up. 

Tony looked tired. His face were still puffy from sleep and his hair was in tangles. A large MIT shirt hang loosely on his shoulders, his orange sweatpants contrasting greatly with the shirt, as if he chose it in the dark. Maybe he did. But his eyes were focused and steady. They were adorned with a sadness and a somber understanding. Empathy. A shared acknowledgement of grief. 

Distantly, Peter knew his breaths had evened out slightly, save for the occasional hiccup. But his mind chose to concentrate on the steady drum of a heartbeat and his mind's silent chant of _May May May May May May May May._  

"You're doing great, buddy."

He didn't feel like he was doing great. He felt like he was dying. Like a bullet was piercing his chest. 

_Wouldn't be the first Parker dying at the hands of a gun._

Tears streamed down his face silently. He closed his eyes and turned his face in Tony's palm, trying to seek some sort of comfort. 

_Wrong hand wrong person too rough not soft enough too big not small enough not May enough._

Tony tugged Peter onto his lap, resting Peter's head on his shoulder and cradled and rocked him back and forth in the same way a father would to a newborn. "It's okay to cry, Pete," he whispered. "It's okay."

And so Peter did. He clutched onto his shirt as a sob tore through his lips, so raw and painful it hurt. Tony squeezed him hard as Peter continued to wail, but he couldn't find it in him to care because god, it hurts. A pain spread from his broken heart to all around his chest, and it _hurt_. God, it felt like all is ribs snapped in half. He buried his head into Tony's shoulder-blade and screamed. But in all the chaos, he could still feel Tony's hands around him and his body still rocking back and forth and he could hear the breathy string of  _it's okay_ 's. 

Peter cried and screamed and sobbed until he couldn't, his body too tired and his mind too numb. He could feel himself shutting off. His eyes drooped voluntarily, and he welcomed the darkness it brought. 

Distantly, he could still feel his body being rocked back and forth, and a hand carding through his hair, and a part of him wanted to say thank you. But his body shut down before his brain could really process the thought. 

The arms around him were large and their hands were calloused, but the were just as delicate as the ones that were soft and small. 

 

* * *

 

Tony continued to rock Peter back and forth long after he had fell asleep. He didn't know how long he sat there. Maybe hours. He wasn't sure. 

Once he was absolutely sure sure that Peter wasn't going to wake up, he got up to carry the boy back to his bed. He wasn't heavy, which scared Tony a little bit. Surely a kid his age and height who ate twice the average amount would be pretty hard to lift, right? But his back thanked him for the second time tonight that Peter was so light. 

He was setting him down on his bed when he noticed the drops of blood coming out of the scratches on his arm. His heart tugged at the sight. 

 _God, I need to figure out how to stop the kid from doing that_ , Tony though, sighing. 

The first aid kit was in the bathroom, so Tony went to get it before sitting down by Peter's bed and taking his arm. At close inspection, it wasn't too bad, the scratches already beginning to close up and heal. There wouldn't even be a mark in a few hours. 

Tony unrolled the bandage anyway. He first cleaned the dry blood off his arm with some water and a towel; he sure as hell wasn't going to use alcohol wipes and risk waking Peter up. Then he began to wrap his arm with the bandage, making sure not to make any sudden movements. 

He didn't know why he was doing this. The scratches could heal on their own, and there was no need to wrap the a healing wound. But Tony couldn't help but think that he needs to take care of him, double check he's alright even if he was perfectly fine the first time. He felt the need to protect this kid. And at the very least, the bandage can serve as some sort of barrier between Peter's prying fingernails and his arm. 

Once he was done-and he was sure his arm was wrapped tight enough- he pushed the first-aid kit to a side and sat on the floor next to the younger boy, who, even in his sleep, looked too tired and too sad at fifteen. 

_Too tired and too sad and too much like me._

The older man shook his head. Peter wasn't going to end up anything like him so long as he can help it. He isn't going to be a drunk. He isn't going to be a selfish, egotistic, reckless playboy. He isn't going to be dangerous. He isn't going to be self-destructive. He isn't going to be lonely. And he sure as hell isn't going to be raised without a father. You can believe that.

He took Peter's hand in his own, careful so as not to wake him up, and breathed, "I promise I'm going to try and be a good father."

Peter hiccuped in response, his eyes still closed. Tony's heart cracked a little. 

"From now on, it's just me and you, kid." He didn't know why his voice broke at the end.

Tony sighed before kissing Peter's bandaged arm and getting up, making sure to close the door behind him as he left the room. He retook his seat in the hall where he previously was when the kid woke up. His laptop was on the ground, as were a bunch of legal papers and documents, including guardianship papers and funeral arrangements, because if he wasn't going to sleep, he might as well do something useful. 

Pepper objected when Tony told her that he was going to stay outside the kid's room-  _J_ _ust in case he needs anything, Pep. You know why I can't leave him alone-_ but she eventually came around. She was currently sleeping in their room. 

He took the guardianship papers, then a pen, and resumed filling it out. 

A ping sounded from his laptop a few minutes later, alerting him of a new email from his lawyer, Elijah. He opened it to find that Elijah was able to retrieve a digital copy of May's will. A link was attached at the bottom. 

 _God bless you, Elijah,_ Tony thought with a somber sense of relief. 

But that relief, sweet but short-lived, died down as Tony began to read through the document.

It was much older than he was expecting. Almost six years old. Most of May's possessions were said to be given to either her late husband, Ben Parker, or to one of her various family members. There was a brief mention of wanting her body to be cremated and for her ashes to buried under a tree, where her headstone should be. Tony jotted that down before moving on.

There were some arrangements on what to do with her car and some valuable items in the apartment that didn't involve Ben. He jotted those down, too.

Finally, he got to who she listed to take Peter in. Tony was prepared to find a blank space where a name should be. He was wrong.

 _Ben_ _Parker_ , the document said in small, meek letters. No other names were listed.

A guilty part of Tony was relieved. He didn't feel like he could trust anyone else with the kid. But the other part of Tony was heartbroken. Because this was May. Strong, resilient May. And her heartbreak was written so clearly in front of him. God, she probably never imagined leaving Peter, too. That would make sense on why she never renewed her will.

Guilt crashed over him. He slammed his laptop shut and tried to steady his shaking hands. Fuck. It felt like a violation of her privacy. Even though he was going to have to read it eventually. But still, it hurt like shit.

He was suddenly reminded too much of his own mother. Even though his parents died ( _murderedmurderedmurderedmurdered_ ) after he was legal, it just seemed like something his mother would do. List 'Howard Stark' absentmindedly because there was no way the two of them would die in his same lifetime, right?

_Wrong, mom. God, so wrong._

A creak of the door broke Tony out of his thoughts. He turned to find that the door to Peter's room was slightly ajar, but the room itself was still dark. Tony couldn't see inside. 

"Peter?"

He was met with silence. 

Tony decided to try something else. "FRIDAY, is Peter awake?"

His AI's voice sounded. "Peter is awake, yes, and is currently standing adjacent to the door, listening to this conversation."

"You're caught, Peter. You might as well come out now."

The door opened a little more, then Peter slowly emerged from the room. His arm was still bandaged. 

Tony straightened up. "Hey, buddy. You awake?"

"Why were you sitting outside my room for so long?"

The question stunned Tony, so it took him a second to respond. "Uh-I-I just wanted to keep you company."

"I could hear your heartbeat from inside."

"Oh, sorry kid. Did that wake you?"

Peter just stood there, his face blank. Around him was an air of awkward dejectedness. "No."

This wan't how Peter usually acted. He was always a lot more passionate and emotive, even if he was sad. This blatant numbness was new to Tony. It reminded him just how out of his field this really was. 

Tony didn't know what to say, what to do... God, he was going to fuck this up, wasn't he? Goddamnit this isn't going to work. Tony's going to do something stupid and mess this up. Shit. Shit.  _Shit,_ he shouldn't have taken the kid in shouldn't have taken him in shouldn't have taken-

 _No_. Tony thought.  _Peter needs me to be calm._

"Hey, I'm getting a little bored of this paperwork. You wanna do something?"

Something sparked in Peter's eyes before they went back to blank. "Whatever."

Tony took that as a good sign.

"Come on, let me show you something." The older man stood up and began to walk down the hall. He could hear the kid trail behind him and he couldn't help but smile a little. 

He walked to the elevator and waited for Peter to come in before he told FRIDAY to go to the roof. 

"Isn't it cold outside?" Peter asked, confused. 

"We're not going outside," was Tony's response. Peter didn't ask anymore questions. 

The elevator door opened to reveal what Tony would call his Panic room. 

The Panic room's walls were completely glass. The room itself was colorful, though, with bright green carpets and beanbags in many different colors scattered around. There was a pile of blankets sitting in a corner, and beside it was a pile of sweaters, adorning from new to old. Another corner was filled with little gadgets such as telescopes, and in another, books. A chess board rested atop a stack of other board games near the center. Outside the glass walls, you could see the rest of the compound and eventually the stars. The only light in the room was a small nightlight near the blankets, illuminating the room with a yellow glow.

"What the..." Peter trailed. 

"It was for Bruce Banner," Tony explained, remembering when he first built the room. "This place is to calm him down if he gets too angry. He decorated it the way he wanted, so this is how it turned out. I would've preferred something a little more... gadgety, but it's his room so I can't really judge."

Peter didn't say anything, but his bloodshot eyes were wide in awe. Tony took that as a win. 

"Now go get yourself a blanket or a sweater or something. Bundle up. Get comfortable. We can do whatever you like."

The boy turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

"Can we play a card game?"

Tony shrugged. "Sure, kid. Whatever you want."

Peter didn't smile, but his eyes crinkled slightly. Tony wondered how many more simple things could make him happy. 

They both got a sweater to themselves before sitting in front of the makeshift table in the centre. Peter began to clear out the chess pieces from the board when he spoke again. 

"You bandaged my arm."

Tony answered surprisingly quickly. "I did."

"Thanks."

"It's no problem, kid."

They sat in silence for a while, Tony dealing out the cards from a deck he found thrown to the side. 

"Will I forget her?" Peter asked. His voice was stable. 

The older man paused. "What?"

"May. Will I forget her?"

"Jesus, kid." Tony set the cards down. "Of course not. I still remember my mom's voice and it's almost been fifteen years since I last saw her. You won't forget. Trust me."

"Will it hurt any less?"

Tony didn't hesitate. "Sometimes. And very slowly. But yeah, it eventually will."

He was just beginning to deal the cards out again when Peter spoke. "I don't want it to not hurt. It means that I don't love her anymore."

The older man paused again. "What the fuck, kid? It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it like?" A spark of fury flashed in Peter's eyes, and Tony stopped dealing again. "I'm still fucked up about Ben. I'm fucked up about my parents. And it's because I still love them. I's always going to be fucked up about them, because I love them too much."

"Peter..." Tony trailed. He wanted to take Peter's hand in his, but decided against it. Instead, he cleared his throat. "Peter. Moving on doesn't mean you stop loving them. Its just- you learn to love them in past tense."

"I don't want that. I want _I love you_ to stay _I love you_. I don't want it to be _loved_."

Tony shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean, just because it's getting easier doesn't mean you stopped loving them. It means you're learning to love them even if they aren't here to love you back. A present tense love for a past tense person. You get it?"

Peter stared at Tony a bit before nodding weakly. "Y-Yeah."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"You can deal the cards now."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, I'll do that."

They began playing something simple- Go Fish, the kid's choice- and speaking only when needed. It was three games later when Peter spoke again. This time, it was Peter's turn to deal. 

"Mister Stark?" 

"Tony."

"What?"

"It's Tony, kid. You don't have to call me Mister Stark."

"Oh. Uh, then, Tony?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Th-Thank you. For- uh- you know, letting me stay at the compound until I get my feet up."

Tony did a double take. "Until you get your feet up?"

"You know," he gestured wildly. "Until I find someplace to live. Get money. All that stuff."

The older man could not believe his ears. "Kid. You're living with me."

"Oh." Peter honestly looked surprised. And a little sad. 

"Yeah... Do you mind?"'

Peter shook his head a little too vigorously. "No- No. It's not that. If it had to be anyone, I'm glad it's you."

Tony didn't say anything after that, and Peter began to deal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> in my defense... i cried while writing this. like, a lot. The part where tony bandaged peter's arm so he wouldn't hurt himself left me sobbing. so dw, i went through as much pain as you guys did. 
> 
> im having a midlife crisis rn cuz idk what to name this stupid fic. maybe, "all the pain and peter never gets a break"???
> 
> i have a shit ton of hw due tomorrow that i didn't even bother to do cuz imma fucking failure :')
> 
> anyways, i'll try to update as soon as i can.
> 
> kudos and comment?
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
